So many days spent wishing to be somewhere, with someone.
Endlessly needing to feel that someone somewhere needs me.
So tired of feeling and being empty. So empty from feeling tired.
So tired of just being.

Moving from nothing to nowhere and back again. Some days just too tired and empty to even deal with nothing and nowhere. Never changing, never varied and oh so never ending.
So tired of just being.

Repetition that drains, that saps, that devours and consumes.
Eating away just a little more of who I was, who I can be.
Eroding piece by piece who I was and how I see myself.
So tired of just being.

Pointless, aimless, redundant so totally without purpose.
Devoid of reasons to wake and no rest though I sleep.
So much time wasted, abused, misused, cursed and loathed.
So tired of just being.